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“I’ll see you tonight.”

No, you’ll see a very lucky version of me who has no clue how good he has it.

She hangs up.

Goes back to her desk.

I return the phone to my pocket, s.h.i.+vering, my thoughts running in mad directions, toward dark fantasies.

I see the train I’m riding into work derailing.

My body mangled beyond recognition.

Or never found.

I see myself stepping into this life.

It isn’t mine exactly, but maybe it’s close enough.

—

In the evening, I’m still sitting on the bench on Eleanor Street across from the brownstone that isn’t mine, watching our neighbors arrive home from work and school.

What a miracle it is to have people to come home to every day.

To be loved.

To be expected.

I thought I appreciated every moment, but sitting here in the cold, I know I took it all for granted. And how could I not? Until everything topples, we have no idea what we actually have, how precariously and perfectly it all hangs together.

The sky darkens.

Up and down the block, the houses light up.

Jason comes home.

I’m in a bad way.

Haven’t eaten all day.

Water hasn’t touched my lips since morning.

Amanda must be losing her mind wondering where I am, but I can’t drag myself away. My life, or at least a devastating approximation of it, is unfolding right across the street.

—

It’s long after midnight when I unlock the door to our hotel room.

The lights are on, the television blaring.

Amanda climbs out of bed, wearing a T-s.h.i.+rt and pajama bottoms.

I close the door softly behind me.

I say, “I’m sorry.”

“You a.s.shole.”

“I had a bad day.”

“You had a bad day.”

“Amanda—”

Charging toward me, she shoves me with both hands as hard as she can, sending me cras.h.i.+ng back into the door.

She says, “I thought you’d left me. Then I thought something had happened to you. I had no way to get in touch with you. I started calling hospitals, giving them your physical description.”

“I would never just leave you.”

“How am I supposed to know that? You scared me!”

“I’m sorry, Amanda.”

“Where have you been?”

She has me boxed in against the door.

“I just sat on this bench across the street from my house all day.”

“All day? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“That isn’t your house, Jason. That isn’t your family.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”